


the word i say the most is sorry, (im sorry)

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: God - Freeform, M/M, church, josh and tyler are on the basketball team, so he asks God for help, tyler is confused about liking boys, tylers family is like one line
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9669680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tyler confesses a sin and asks God for help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a few lines in blasphemy, as you could probably tell after the title!!  
> enjoy xox

The pews were empty, the great hall silent save for the rumble of distant cars. Sun seeped in through the stained glass windows on either side of the church, casting hues of blue and green and red over the room. It was the default of peaceful, despite all of the confessions made in this exact space, the loud preaches bellowed, the smiles and the tears. The sin that was soon to be released did nothing to taint the atmosphere.

Tyler sat down in a middle row. His hands nervously slid together, fingers interlacing. He sighed. This was harder than anything he’d ever done. Harder than shooting five hundred baskets before dinner, harder than his first choir recital, even harder than admitting it to himself. He blinks fast, swallowing down the choking feeling in his throat.

He doesn’t know if he can do this.

But he has to. If he doesn’t, he’s never going to be forgiven. The only way he knows how to get through this, is asking for help. He’d be dead before he asked his parents, and he doesn’t trust his siblings to give him the guidance that he needs. So, he’s at church; long after the Sunday service has concluded. His family was probably out getting lunch now, and he’s almost upset he’s missing out on ice cream.

The sixteen year old heaves another huff, this time in annoyance to himself. He just needs to get it out, get it over with. The sooner he does this, the better he’ll feel. Tyler braces his hands on the back of the wooden pew in front of him, lowering his head and closing his eyes.

“Father… “ His breath comes out shaky, a pool of nerves erupting in his chest. “Father, I don’t know what to do. I feel a way that I really shouldn’t. And it’s been eating at me, day and night. I don’t think I want to be like this. I _shouldn’t_ want to be like this.”

He hooks his thumbs together, grip still tight on the wood. “I think I’m gay.”

He’s never said that out loud before, never uttered it in front of the mirror, it’s always been in his head. A sense of impending dread takes over, but a hint of relief surfaces. He continues.

“I think I’m gay and I’m not sure how to handle it. I’ve tried kissing girls, and taking them on dates. Nothing ever works. There’s this one boy, he’s on the basketball team with me. His name is Josh, and he’s- He’s got the nicest smile.” Tyler pauses, regretting his next words before they’re out of his mouth. He isn’t allowed to question. Such blasphemy, if he were to question God’s path. He does anyway, because he’s alone and this is a moment between him and _Him_. No judgmental stares, no lectures about defiance, no threats of Hell.

“Father, why did You make me feel this way? I shouldn’t question You, I know, but I can’t help but wonder. If the way butterflies explode in my stomach every time he laughs is such an abomination, why would You allow it to happen?”

He shakes his head, eyelids still shut tight. “I wish I could make it all go away. I get sad a lot; more than any of my friends. I’ve brought it up, but they don’t understand. I feel… Lost. I can’t think of a next move to make. So, Father, I- I’m asking, what do I do?”

Tyler raises his head, blinking dark spots out of his vision. He looks up at the beams across the ceiling, like they could give him a sign. Leaning back, he curls his fists into his lap, absentmindedly pulling at the hem of his khakis with fumbling fingertips. He’s not positive what he expected after he spilled his secret, some type of grand gesture, maybe. Jesus and their Father, descending down upon him bathed in a bright light. Instead… Nothing.

“It’s like I’m screaming to an empty sky.”

A bird chirped outside, and it was kind of ironic, really. God’s creations can acknowledge the world, yet God won’t show Himself in times of confusion and lack of answers. Tyler mentally grieves an apology for thinking like that, then voices one.

“I’m sorry.” Right after it slips past his lips, one of the big doors behind him heave open; startling the boy out of his beliefs.

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I can come back.” It’s Josh. Tyler feels his cheeks heat up, it wasn’t even minutes prior he was owning up to enjoying the teenager’s laugh too much. A fleeting thought floats through his mind- What if this was God’s answer? It leaves as soon as it’s there, because that would be ridiculous.

Tyler starts having an internal battle, everything he’s ever been taught raging war with his current emotions, and the scene unfolding. He stares at Josh, his uneasy form stood in the entrance; curly near-black hair ruffled. He’s clad in a loose t-shirt, and the basketball shorts they all wear to practice. The boy is beautiful, and Tyler doesn’t stop himself from cementing that fact in his brain.

“You can- I mean if you want, you can sit down.” Tyler starts, gulping down his fear of, well, everything. “I can leave, too. If you want. I was finished, I guess.” He wasn’t, but if Josh needed to spill his own sins, he wasn’t going to get in the way. He’s said the majority of his piece, so if hightailing it out of there was what Josh wanted him to do, so be it.

Josh stepped forward, moving his body out of the way of the door, letting it shut with a quiet thunk. He made his way down the aisle, stopping at the pew across from Tyler’s own. Sitting down, he gave a hesitant smile to the brunet before turning away to admire the windows.

They’re silent for a while, and it’s comfortable. So unlike the silences Tyler shares with his other friends, the awkward draft in the air when no one is cracking jokes about girls, or discussing the next game plans. They sit without talking, and it’s okay.

Josh shuffles his feet, and Tyler ignores it until he clears his throat.

“Is it okay to like, ask what you were praying about?” Josh speaks up, curiosity pure on his face. There was no way he could admit his earlier conversation with their Father; not when Josh was in the heart of his struggle.

Tyler shrugs, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know, it was a little personal.”

The boy nods in understanding, but tries again. “We could trade. I tell you what I was going to talk about, and you tell me what you did.” He lifts his shoulders, feigning casualness. “If you want.”

Tyler scratches at the back of his neck nervously, glancing around for anyone; even though he’s fully aware the church is empty. “I, uh. I confessed something. And asked what I should do about it.”

“And did you get an answer?”

Tyler furrowed his eyebrows, unable to come up with a solid reply. Truly, he didn’t know. “Not really.”

“God does that a lot. Never answers things in a way you’d be able to recognize. What did you confess?” Tyler would tell Josh every single thing he’d ever done wrong in his life if he asked, he thinks, so long as he could sit here with him, watch the way he absentmindedly runs his fingers through his hair. But he can’t do this, it hits too close. The risk of his crush leaving in disgust scares him into not answering for several minutes.

Josh waits patiently for him.

It’s soft when he admits, “I might be gay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Tyler spares a glance at Josh, an expression of surprise adorning his face, along with bewildered confusion. Josh didn’t look angry, or grossed out, not even a little bit. He seemed the same as always, reassuring eyes and the ghost of a smile. Tyler nodded, “Alright. What about you? What were you going to pray about?”

Josh twiddled with the strings from his shorts, breaking eye contact to stare down and shrug. They did that a lot. Shrugging was easy. “Boys.”

The brunet hung onto that. “What about boys?”

“I like them.”

“Oh.”

Josh stood up then, and walked to the pew Tyler sat at. The younger scooted over willingly, letting his crush plop down. The space between them was too little now, their thighs nearly touching. Tyler automatically felt crimson rise up his neck, settling in his cheeks.

“It’s not bad, y’know. Liking guys.”

Tyler doesn’t offer a reply. The cross at the front of the service hall seemed to be watching him, as if _knowing_ that he was getting too flustered over his friend sitting next to him than should be normal. And he wasn’t normal, not really. Normal boys don’t like boys, or claw at their skin when they get so sad it hurts. Normal boys don’t skip out on vanilla ice cream to confess their sins to God.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Josh starts, “How much faith and trust we put into something we can’t see?”

Tyler’s back to feeling guilty because of the immediate response of ‘ _yes’_ in his head, lightly kicking the carpeted ground with the tip of his shoe. “You can feel it.”

“Sometimes.” His cocoa eyes get this far away glaze, deep in thought. “Other times, I just don’t know.”

Tyler understands. Lately, he’s been… Not doubting, per se. Questioning. Pondering. Wondering if the one thing he’s clinged to since he could remember, besides basketball, was even fully true. Or if God just didn’t waste His time on pitiful prays from sixteen year olds.

“Tyler? Can I ask you something?”

Tyler chuckles. “You just did.”

Josh jokingly punches him in the shoulder, barely hard enough to do any damage. “I’m serious. What made you realize you were gay?”

The simple question stops him in his tracks, grin falling off his face. The answer is painstakingly obvious, right there on his tongue. Timid brown eyes, curly dark brown hair, freckles. A head thrown back laugh, a smile brighter than a million suns, a nervous habit of tapping on things. The hiking up of a red tee when shooting a basketball in the hoop, sharing tic tacs with the team, joyous banter.

He could say all of that and more, but he settles on one word. “You.”

A giggle slips past Josh’s lips, and it’s like a dam breaking. They’re laughing and bumping elbows before they can blink. It’s too funny and not funny at all, but the uproar in their vocal chords doesn’t care.

Tyler’s wiping a stray tear when Josh gets ahold of himself. “Worst pickup line ever.”

Still grinning, he shakes his head. “Wasn’t a pickup line. You’re like, cute and stuff.” He clamps his mouth shut when he realizes what he’s said. This was not in any way, shape, or form how he had planned for the day to go. He was meant to be getting forgiveness for this _._ “I shouldn’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I came here to find a way to stop liking you. Not to fall deeper into it.”

Josh debated this for a second, then bumped their knees together. “Thought you said you didn’t get an answer?”

“I didn’t, I don’t think.”

“I walked in.”

Tyler really just wanted ice cream, this whole battle between him and God’s ancient words were taking a toll on his soul. “Yeah, so what?”

The older sighs, then reaches over to hook his pointer finger with Tyler’s pinky. The boy wanted to yank his hand back, but more so, he liked the way his skin tingled when it touched Josh’s. “I’ve never been to this church without my family. The one time that I decide to come, you’re here confessing you like me to God? Tyler, if that doesn’t scream answer, I don’t know what does.”

“Why would God _want_ me to like you?” Tyler shakes his head. “Doesn’t make sense.”

“Doesn’t have to make sense. Do you wanna go get ice cream?”

Tyler feigns thought for a second longer than he should’ve, because Josh pulls on his pinky. He silently thanks God; not only for the chilly dessert, but for Josh’s hand now slipping fully into his own.

“Sure.”

They get up, and catch the bus to the parlor in town; sitting dangerously close but not close enough the whole way. Josh taps the backs of his fingers on Tyler’s thigh and it doesn’t fail to make the basketball captain hide his smile in his shoulder.

When they get their cones, they lick and giggle on the way to the park. A tree keeps them shaded from the summer sun, and Tyler lets Josh lay his head in his lap. The moment he finally decides to cautiously run his fingers through the swirly strands, the older reaches up and pushes the rest of his chocolate cone in his face, smearing the cold substance all over his nose and mouth.

“Dude!” Tyler yelps, a laugh lacing his voice. “What was that for?”

Josh scooted up on his elbows, pink lips widely upturned to reveal pearly whites. He leaned forward, close enough that Tyler could see the freckles flaked over his skin. “Just wanted to do this.” He got impeccably closer, locking their eyes; silently asking for permission. Tyler nodded too fast.

Nonetheless, Josh took the answer and gently pecked the corner of Tyler’s mouth, then the tip of his nose. Despite what he’s been taught his entire life, the younger doesn’t grimace. He lets his eyelids flutter shut, and shyly grins. Only when Josh drops his head back onto his lap does he let his eyes reopen.

The sky is full of wispy clouds, flying birds, and really isn't all that empty. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! hope you liked this. comments and kudos are always appreciated <333


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